


I'll Be Good

by Ijustwannaread



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Pre-Canon, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 18:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ijustwannaread/pseuds/Ijustwannaread
Summary: Seven times that Allison doesn't Rumor someone, and seven times that she does.





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to preface this story with the disclaimer that I am not a huge fan of a romantic relationship between Luther and Allison, but I did write it as kind of ambiguous for the purpose of the story. I like to think you can interpret it as either way depending on what you're into. (For all those that absolutely hate it, consider yourself sort of warned?)

 

**I.**

_i. Luther_

 

When Allison was eleven, she fell in love with dancing.

Specifically, she fell in love with _Dirty Dancing_.

She had snuck out by herself for the first time (well, as much as you can sneak out when the door is unlocked and your father is asleep rooms away), and found her way into a dusty old movie theater. Everything about the movie- the clothes, the forbidden romance- seemed magical to Allison.

The next day, she begged Mom for a dress just like Baby's, something pink with lots of fabric that would flow when she twirled.

At night she would spin in circles, stealing glimpses of herself in her vanity mirror. Of course, she knew her father would never take her to dance lessons in place of mixed martial arts, but she invented her own dance moves based off of her fading memories of the movie.

One night, right before bed, she was in the middle of one of her more enthusiastic routines when the door to her room creeped open. She froze, her body still contorted in a wild position, and saw Luther's head through the doorway. His eyes were wide and he looked similarly frozen in time.

She wanted to rewind time. She felt like she had been caught in some illegal act.

The words floated to the front of her mind, “ _I heard a rumor that you never saw that..._ ”

She wanted to say them out loud, but there was a lump in her throat.

Luther stood up to full height, all five foot five of him. His face suddenly turned beet red, starting at his cheeks and glowing through his short blond hair.

“That's, uh, cool. You can jump really high,” he said, making painful eye contact. He looked behind him in the hallway as if he expected Diego to pop out and accuse him of being lame and girly.

Allison smiled so hard it hurt.

 

A week later, he would launch her into a lift with such excess force that they both went sprawling, knocking over Luther's entire bookshelf in the process. Sprawled on the floor, they laughed so hard and long that the sound drowned out Patrick Swayze's crooning voice on his record player.

 

  1. _Patrick_

 




Men in Hollywood were a real piece of work, Allison quickly learned. They were leeches and snakes, and big, dumb dogs all covered in muscles and spray tans. After Allison's first major movie, they were often orbiting her like she was the only source of heat in their solar system, and that was by her design, of course.

Patrick rose to prominence on the scene when Allison's career had steadied down from a boil to a simmer. He was the perfect picture of middle America, corn-fed with a big family and manly principles. He had dimples, and he was discovered by a Hollywood casting director while he was on vacation at Santa Monica with some friends from college. It was the cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that got him his first job, unlike the textbook nepotism that got most actors to the big time. That made him an outsider in Allison's eyes, just like her.

They met at a rooftop party, and Allison knew exactly who he was. He knew who she was, too. But they played it off naturally, like they were two normal people. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, and she leaned in close and invited him to come back to her place later. She was five years into her life in Hollywood, after all, and she always got what she wanted. There was no need to play coy.

A month later, they were the new It-Couple. Six months later, they bought an enormous house together by the beach.

“Do you ever think of getting that tattoo removed?” Patrick asked, as she slipped out of their pool on a lazy Sunday. Allison thought he might be joking, but his expression was, as usual, completely earnest.

She glanced down at the umbrella on her forearm. It looked especially faded in the midday sun.

“Why would I do that?” She asked, and leaned over the side, watching him intently as he lounged on the patio.

“You don't even like your family. You never talk to them. Besides, you're so much more than that whole thing was,” he said, as though she should give him a medal for his highly skilled compliment.

Allison didn't respond. She pushed herself back under the water, and didn't look at him.

He had never asked about her family.

A month later, after a call with her manager, she slid next to him in bed and told him some news.

“My manager asked me if I would want to try out for a broadway play after filming wraps,” she said, still buzzing with excitement over the idea.

Patrick looked at her and laughed a bit.

“Wow, what next? Your manager can't be serious,” he said.

“What do you mean?” She asked flatly. He looked at her and saw her stormy expression.

“I mean... New York is so far away. Would you really want to go back there?” He said, uncertainly. He peered over at her, gauging her reaction.

Allison thought suddenly of home. She wondered what Luther would have said if she had told him, instead. He would have smiled. He would have been so happy for her.

The thought made her throat tighten like a chokehold.

Patrick flicked off the light and kissed her cheek gently.

“Goodnight,” he said, and turned over to sleep.

Allison sat for a while, feeling distantly the sting of tears in her eyes but the need to remain resolute against them. Suddenly, into the darkness, the words formed.

“I heard a rumor that you love me.”

Patrick proposed the next day. When she said yes, he kissed her on the lips, on her finger and the shiny new diamond, and then on the faded tattoo on her wrist.

 

**II.**

 

_i. Diego_

 

“Is Diego going to talk when we go on tv?” Luther asked as they set out towards an appearance.

All of the siblings looked at their father intently.

“He will speak if spoken to, of course,” Reginald said, primly. Allison was disappointed but not surprised. Reginald would never admit to his children's weaknesses unless he was chastising them directly. Otherwise, it was business as usual.

Diego looked positively gray in the face, which gave Allison a distinct sense of dread. She hadn't felt anything but excited anticipation for their first televised appearance until today. Now her stomach was in a knot, and she couldn't help but consider the endless ways her unruly siblings might make fools of them all on live television.

Suddenly, it occurred to Allison that she might be able to fix it. She had never tried, but it seemed like maybe if she rumored him, he might be able to get over his entire stuttering problem, just like that. It would be better for all of them. The only problem was that she had never tried something that big before, and she didn't know if it worked like that.

As if he could read her mind, Reginald pulled her aside as she got out of the car. Once her siblings had been ushered forward by Grace, he spoke to her sternly.

“You are not to Rumor your siblings, Number Three.”

“But what about that time, Vanya-” she protested. It didn't make sense.

“You will use your power when I tell you. You haven't even begun to understand control,” he said, and Allison wanted to cry. She looked down at the ground.

“Understood?” He asked. He pulled her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye.

“Yes,” she replied, stony.

Diego stayed silent throughout the entire production. When he was asked to speak during the interview, he froze completely. His eyes went wide and he panicked. He opened his mouth and worked his jaw but nothing would come out. The interviewer floundered, clearly unsure how to react. Finally, Allison cut in, rambling over a complete non-sequitur in of sheer panic. But she already had a reputation; she hogged the spotlight, so the interviewer didn't bat an eyelash. She had answered most of the questions before, anyway.

That night, Diego stalked wordlessly into the house and slammed the door to his room so hard that the doorknob broke and had to be replaced.

 

  1. _Her costar_




 

“Cut!” The director kneaded the bridge of his nose with a hand. The entire crew had almost lost track of how many takes they had done. People were checking their watches and tapping their feet. Allison's PA looked like she was mentally composing her resignation letter.

It was all her costar Tatiana's fault. She was utterly hopeless as an actress, but word was the casting director owed her father a certain sum of money. The director looked like he was liable to stroke out any minute, but he had also given up on trying to tell her how he wanted her to act about twelve takes ago.

Tatiana was supposed to be crying in this scene, but no amount of canned tears would convince any audience that her wooden expression was conveying deep devastation over the dark secret that Allison's character had just told her.

“Can we take five?” Allison asked, trying to keep her voice level. The director threw his hands in the air, and she took that as a yes.

She drank some water, and then grabbed her costar by the arm.

“What do you want?” Tatiana asked. Good lord, this girl was both snide and oblivious.

“I heard a rumor that you were a great actress,” Allison said.

“What did you just say?” The girl recoiled, looking at her up and down like she might throw a punch.

“Nothing.” Allison smiled as fake as she had ever done in her life.

After the next run through there was not a dry eye in the room. Tatiana pulled off such a subtle yet heart wrenching performance that even Allison was transfixed. They finally fell into the delightful rhythm that could happen during effective scenes between two competent actors. When the director yelled cut, everyone wiped their tears and stumbled home in utter relief.

 

Three months later, her manager threatened to throttle Allison when she refused to go to watch Tatiana accept a major award for her “breakthrough” performance.

 

 **III**.

_i. Klaus_

 

Allison started smoking when she was twelve. A big-name actress had offered her a cigarette in the dressing room before a talk show appearance. Watching the smoke twirl around the woman's bright red lips looked incredibly glamorous to Allison, so she said yes without a second thought.

It tasted gross, but Allison was proud of herself for keeping a straight face as she suffered through the burn of that first drag. The actress smiled at her, either mildly impressed or just amused by the image of such a young girl smoking a cigarette and trying to look like a pro. Allison felt like there was a camaraderie between them backstage, and maybe it was that fond memory that made her want to continue smoking after that.

One night around bedtime, she took out the lone cigarette that she had been snuck by a fan at a meet and greet and clambered up to the attic. She had kept it the cigarette in her pocket for days, squirreled away like some stolen treasure. She had been feeling distinctly rebellious that day, as the team hadn't been to a media event in weeks and she was feeling bored and trapped in their endless pattern of training and missions and schoolwork.

She lit it with a match, and sat in the windowsill blowing the smoke carefully into the wind.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Allison jumped and hit her head on the frame of the window. She hid the cigarette behind her thigh and glanced over to the doorway in a panic.

Klaus had sauntered into the attic, and was approaching her with his hands on his hips, mockingly indignant.

“Put that out, young lady!” He said, putting on a gruff voice. He fixed an imaginary monocle on his face. Allison knew it was all a joke, but she still hastily lit put out her cigarette on the roofing by her foot.

She felt guilty and exposed being caught like this, even if it was Klaus. Automatically, she contemplated rumoring him to forget. It would be so easy. Klaus was the one who was supposed to be getting in trouble, not her. She didn't need this incident on her conscience.

“Scusi,” Klaus said, and motioned for her to make room on the sill. He had this habit recently of throwing in phrases in multiple languages. Allison thought it was annoying.

She looked down at her mostly unsmoked cigarette and felt even more annoyed at her brother.

“Don't tell anyone,” she said.

Klaus stuck his tongue out at her.

“I'm insulted,” he said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a fresh pack of Marlboros.

“These will be better anyway,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows. Allison scrunched up her face, but took one. He produced a lighter with an obnoxious tie dye pattern on it, and lit both of them.

“Thanks,” she said, despite herself.

“I can blow smoke rings, wanna see?” He asked.

“Prove it,” she challenged. He blew out a massive amount of smoke while contorting his mouth, but no smoke rings appeared. She rolled her eyes.

“What, am I not doing it?” He asked, pulling a face.

“You're an idiot,” she said, laughing.

 

_ii.Her manager_

 

Allison's manager held up a tabloid, and pointed one neon acrylic nail at the cover.

“I don't give a single shit what you do within the comfort of your own home, but you cannot be caught smoking in public for Christ's sake,” she said. She pointed at the grainy image of the cigarette in Allison's hand as if it had personally kicked her in the shin and then called her a rude name.

“Why?” Allison said, absently scrolling through her phone. This meeting was not supposed to be a hassle.

“You are supposed to be one of the Hollywood Good Girls. Your young fans are impressionable, and you don't want to alienate your audience.” She threw the magazine on her desk with a flourish.

Allison thought back to the time in her superhero days where she had drop kicked a late night host on television. Sure, she'd been wearing a mask, but who in their right mind would ever see her as a “good girl”?

“I heard a rumor that you thought smoking was _fantastic_ for my image.” Overkill, admittedly. Allison was tired.

Her manager looked confused for a moment.

“Jesus, what was I saying?” She looked down at the magazine absently.

“That we're done here.”

“Right, right. Until next time, doll.”

 

Two years later, her manager called her.

“I've got a great opportunity for you. Camel wants you to do an ad campaign for them. You'd get so much exposure,” she said.

“You want me to do _what_?” Allison asked, appalled. Over her dead body would her daughter ever see her mother in an ad campaign for cigarettes.

 

 

**IV.**

      i. _Five_

 

The week Five disappeared, Allison lay awake in bed every night, hoping that he would walk back in the front door as if nothing had happened.

“I heard a rumor that Five came back,” she said into her pillow.

 

It didn't work.

 

  1. _Her stylist_

 




Allison was rarely early to anything, but one morning she arrived early for an appointment with her stylist and overheard her complain about her.

“Ugh, my next client can be such a diva. Plus, she has the absolute worst sense of style I have ever seen, you really wouldn't believe.”

Allison had heard worse. She'd grown up with five snarky brothers, an abusive father, and left a trail of enraged, thwarted villains in her wake. Of course she'd heard worse.

But this stung.

Allison marched in, timing be damned.

“Allison!” Her stylist called, and the syrupy fake friendliness made Allison's skin crawl.

“I heard a rumor that you wanted to quit all of your clients but me, because I was your favorite,” she said. She would pull no punches today.

Her stylist blinked.

“I absolutely can't wait to get started.”

Allison waited a month, and then fired her.

A diva, she had said?

**V.**

  1. _Ben_




 

Ben caught Allison packing her bags a week after they turned sixteen. By then, practically all of the siblings had either contemplated running away or actively planned it at one point or other. She was constantly fantasizing about what life would look like away from home. He shouldn't have been surprised.

But Ben had looked like a deer in the headlights.

 

“What are you doing, Allison?”

“I'm getting the hell out of here.” She swiped at some half dried tears at the corner of her eyes, remnants from the latest dressing down courtesy of her father.

“Where will you go?” He asked, his voice small. He was looking down at his shoes.

“Anywhere. Away from here,” she replied, searching for her stash of money she had sworn was somewhere in her vanity.

“You should wait until you're eighteen. It would be better. You would have more freedom and opportunities,” he said, logical to a fault. Allison shook her head helplessly.

“I can't wait, Ben. I need to go,” she said.

“Allison-”

“Come with me,” she pleaded, desperately wishing he would agree. Ben was the smartest person she knew. If Ben came with her, they could do anything.

“I can't,” he said, looking devastated.

Allison felt new tears falling now. She could make him follow her. She knew he wanted to leave- maybe more than she did. He just didn't know it yet. He never seemed to care if he ever got what he wanted, but that was because he hadn't yet found out how wonderful it was.

“I heard- I heard,” she started, but the words were stuck in her throat. Ben just looked at her with wide, sad eyes.

Suddenly, the prospect of leaving with or without Ben was more real, and completely terrifying. She would never make it alone. Allison stopped throwing items into her bag, and plopped down on her bed. Ben sat next to her, her open suitcase between them.

They stayed.

A year later, Ben was dead. And a week after that, Allison left for good.

 

  1. _Someone, anyone_




 

Allison was going to be late. She was practically running to get to the movie set, but there was a woman shuffling carefully in sky high stiletto heels in front of her and taking up almost all of the sidewalk. Allison groaned loudly.

“I heard a rumor that you walked faster.”

The woman picked up the pace and immediately turned an ankle. She went down hard, and her various bags catapulted out of her hands and exploded her shopping all over the path. A stray makeup container rolled out of sight.

Allison spent the next five minutes helping the woman gather her items and making sure she hadn't sprained anything.

The woman thanked her for her kindness, and Allison fought back tears.

 

**VI.**

 

     i. _Vanya_

 

“Don't make me do this,” Allison pleaded.

Vanya saw what was coming.

That was the last thing Allison remembered.

 

  1. _Vanya_




 

“I heard a rumor that you were ordinary.”

 

**VII.**

_i.  Claire_

 

“Allison...” Patrick started gently. “You aren't going to Rumor our daughter.”

It's hard to say whether it was a statement or a question. Maybe it was a command.Allison and Patrick were sitting in bed, Allison propped up against an enormous swath of pillows and cradling her beautiful newborn girl to her chest.Allison held tighter to Claire, and looked at her husband sharply.

“Never.” She gazed down at her daughter's tiny eyelashes, her little tuft of black hair.

“I can't believe you think I would even consider that.”

 

      ii.   _Claire_  

 

Claire turned a corner and saw her.

“Mom!” She yelled, and came running into her arms.

Allison couldn't speak. She felt like she could barely breathe. So she just held on to her daughter like she was a life preserver and cried heavy tears into her soft hair.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Allison is such a fascinating character, and the show barely showed us anything about her and how life with her powers might have been. I personally like the idea that maybe Reginald had one decent parenting idea and convinced her not to Rumor her siblings, so their relationship was at least in that way a solid part of her life? 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed my heavy handed parallels and speculation! Please leave me a comment because I love to talk about character interpretation stuff :)


End file.
